Safe
by Tracy-Lou
Summary: Brendan is released from prison with one objective: revenge. But when Stephen's involved, things don't always go according to plan.


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks! 

Summary: Brendan is released from prison with one objective; revenge. But when Stephen's involved, things don't always go according to plan.

A/N: Just an idea I had about how the storyline could go.

Safe

_Black jacket strewn across the ground, covered in leaves, in blood. _

xxx

Three months. Brendan had been inside for _three months. _And there was only one person to blame. One person to find, to hunt, perhaps to kill. Silas Blisset. Brendan knew this intrinsically; there wasn't a question. The man had ruined his life. He had taken Brendan away from everything he cared about and done it with such grace and ruthlessness that Brendan was almost impressed.

The first thing Brendan did when he was released from prison was vomit. It was a gut reaction, quite literally. After spending so much time believing that his life had ended, Brendan felt invincible. He didn't want to play safe, didn't want to plan or strategize. He simply wanted revenge.

The moment that he realised he had the possibility of release, Brendan began to think. He thought of everything; how he had ended up here, what he would do when it was all over. Who he would go to first. Everything was a jumbled mess in his mind; there was nothing concrete to follow through on. Brendan wanted to act on instinct; revert to his animal self and devour.

He knew Silas would be running scared; he had been caught out. This was the end of the road for him. And he must have known that Brendan was after him otherwise he wouldn't have made the move that he did. The move that almost changed everything.

xxx

Ste had been walking home from the shops, a carrier bag in each hand. He had popped into Price Slice after his shift to pick a few things up for their dinner tonight. It was late, and it was dark. His black Chez Chez jacket was wrapped tightly around himself. He wished he had brought his coat. It was December after all. Christmas would soon be approaching and Ste idly wondered how he would afford presents for the kids.

And in that split second when Ste's mind had been elsewhere, he had struck. It was a swift blow to the back and Ste went straight to the ground. His shopping was strewn around him; he felt his jacket pulled off of him. He had cut himself in his fall and it was all over his shirt.

Thankfully some students passed by on their way for a night out and he was saved. He was safe.

xxx

Warren didn't know why or how he had become involved. He felt he owed something to Brendan but he couldn't place what. After all, Brendan was the one who had killed Danny, not Warren. And witnessing that, and the aftermath of it, had made Warren certain that Brendan was falsely accused.

He had visited him often in prison. They weren't friends, not really. But they were something. Warren liked to think that he helped a little. It wasn't his nature to care but there was something so pitiable and yet brilliant about Brendan Brady that he couldn't help himself.

And that was what brought him here.

xxx

Brendan stood beside Warren in the cold night air. The woods were silent, as though mocking their disruption. Brendan didn't even know if Silas would turn up, he wasn't even sure if he wanted him to. Brendan wasn't heartless; he wasn't as hardened as Warren was. Prison had been a dull, fruitless experience. Brendan gained nothing and he learnt nothing. It wasn't the place for him; if he were to ever evolve he needed to be out in the real world, living and breathing it. In prison he was caged, contained. But he wasn't saved.

xxx

It had all happened far too quickly. Silas had arrived, words were exchanged. Brendan gritted his teeth, his beard prickling his skin. He hadn't even been home yet. Hadn't seen Cheryl, hadn't seen…

Silas threw something onto the ground. Brendan grinned, hiding behind a mask of doubt and uncertainty. Warren looked confused, he stepped forwards, his eyes ghosting over the item of clothing on the ground. His face took on a dawning realisation. He looked at Brendan, his eyes wide and fearful.

Brendan bent down to pick it up, his hands running over the smoothness of the material. He brought it to his nose and inhaled.

It smelled of _him. _

It smelled of cheap aftershave, and distantly of sweat. There was blood on it.

Brendan curled his arms around it, as though holding the owner. He closed his eyes, remembering nights of passion and soft kisses and hard kisses and meaningful words and above all else, Stephen himself. Small and slight, dirty blond hair, cheeky grin. Eyes pale blue, sparkling with affection and desire. Giving Brendan something he didn't even know he needed. Being someone Brendan didn't even realise he wanted so badly. Except he did, and that was the issue.

He wiped his eyes and all sound was drowned out. There was laughter in the air, maniacal and possessed and after careful observation he realised that it was his own. He had lunged forwards, Warren's fingertips barely reaching him. He had flashes of Danny, of another man who had thought Brendan would let it lie if Stephen were harmed.

He always remembered the surprise on his face, mirrored on Silas' own. He had come prepared, Warren certainly hadn't anticipated it going this far, he was shouting at Brendan to stop. But it was unnecessary in the end. Brendan had barely reached the old man when he heard the sirens and saw Silas collapse onto the ground, clutching his chest in agony.

It was all a blur after that. Questions were asked, details were noted. They were free to go. They hadn't done anything wrong, not this time. Brendan walked through the woods, feeling numb and completely alone. Warren had gone to call Mitzeee and he was lagging behind. Brendan stared down at his phone, no one to call. No one he could bear speaking to anyway. And then his phone started to ring in his hand, and _his _name was flashing. Was it a joke? A dream?

Brendan's fingers, weightless, allowed the phone to drop. It didn't matter. He heard someone calling for him, someone was running towards him. Next moment they were in his arms and Brendan finally snapped back to reality. He smelled him first, and acknowledged him second.

"Stephen" he breathed, his voice choked and broken. "I thought ye were…"

He pulled back to look into his face. Stephen's watery eyes looked at him, full of love and need. Brendan kissed him harder than he had ever kissed anyone in his life. Stephen had to push him away, rubbing at his face and laughing.

"A beard? Seriously?" He joked; his laughter was like music to Brendan's ears.

Brendan pushed his forehead against Stephen's. Above the raindrops began to fall but neither of them noticed. Brendan kissed him again, gentler this time. He pulled him to his body, moulding them together. He didn't care that they weren't alone, didn't care that it was late at night and it was wet and cold and Stephen didn't even have a jacket on.

"Bren…" Stephen moaned against his lips. "I'm so cold"

He shrugged off his own jacket and put it around Stephen's shoulders, wrapping his arms around him.

"Ye are safe now" he said softly. "Ye are with me, got it?"

Stephen nodded, his teeth chattering.

"Good, good boy" Brendan said absently, tightening his hold.

In those few seconds when he had thought that he had lost him, the world had become a dark, cruel place. Brendan never wanted to revisit it again. He would keep Stephen beside him, no question about it. Nothing was ever simple, and nothing ever went the way it was supposed to go but Brendan didn't care. They would make their own sense of the world, of each other. And as long as Stephen was beside him, that was all that mattered.


End file.
